


Shadows of Power

by sinelanguage



Category: Fire Emblem Echoes: Mou Hitori no Eiyuu Ou | Fire Emblem Echoes: Shadows of Valentia
Genre: Character Study, Gen, Yuletide
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-16
Updated: 2017-12-16
Packaged: 2019-02-15 15:44:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,192
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13034331
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sinelanguage/pseuds/sinelanguage
Summary: Sonya recognized a familiarity in Celica, and she wasn’t keen on the implications of it.





	Shadows of Power

**Author's Note:**

  * For [segfault](https://archiveofourown.org/users/segfault/gifts).



Wind whipped the desert sand along the ground, the battlefield still hushed. Maybe the priestess had gone north instead. Sonya knew not to let anticipation get the best of her and bet on false hopes, but the sun was starting to set, and it grew more and more unlikely any attacker would arrive.

Sighing, Sonya looked to the horizon for any sign of movement once more, then turned to her witches. 

The witches made little movement, ever alert to the changing sounds around them. Even if the priestess and her friends came now, they wouldn’t stand a chance. The witches followed Sonya’s command; they knew how to follow, how to fight, and despite Sonya’s best efforts, they knew little else. 

If the priestess had gone North, they’d have an easier chance. Deen wasn’t a pushover, but he didn’t command witches. Even Grieth knew their power, even if he didn’t care about the cost of it.

Swaying back and forth with the wind, the witches hadn’t moved from their positions, since they hadn’t seen anything to attack. Whatever army Grieth had warned them about wasn’t coming, she was sure of it.

Finally, something moved on the horizon, a pegasus knight just on the edge of her vision. As she came closer, Sonya recognizes her as one of Greith’s posts, harried and worse for wear. 

“Deen’s fallen,” she said; whatever remorse Sonya felt, she wasn’t allowed to linger. “They’ve started toward the castle-- Grieth’s requested backup.”

The witches beside her rustled, focusing now on the new pegasus knight. They’d be the backup pawns Grieth needed; they’d surely seize the day, Sonya didn’t doubt that.

Sonya sighed, looking over the post’s shoulder and to Greith’s Citadel in the distance.  “We won’t provide backup,” she said, voice unwavering. “Let him fall.”

* * *

The light of Celica’s fire flickered dimly, casting muddled shadows on the dungeon walls. The dungeons never ended, and the further and further down they went, the more breaks they had to take to lick their wounds.

Celica was curious; empathetic but closed-off and secretive, with a refinement to her, not unlike Hestia. She’d been perceptive about Sonya’s betrayal of Grieth, anticipating that there would be no backup, and willing to let Sonya join the cause. Past the initial curiosity, Celica had garnered herself some respect. 

And while Celica had respect, her company hadn’t reached the same heights. Being a group of so many mages, their magic drained their energy every battle fought; they didn’t have much endurance. Even Sonya exhausted herself, her muscles aching even as she did the easy task of searching through crates. 

“Oh, thank Mila,” Celica said, hauling rations out of a crate nearby. “There’s something we can use.”

“Finally,” bemoaned Mae, easily taking the excuse to quit searching boxes. “So, what did ya find?”

It was mostly potions, medical bottles, some cracked, but Mae complained some more, finding some more crates to investigate. Despite the response, Celica still held her haul close. She held out one of the bottle to Sonya. “You can take the medical syrup,” said Celica. “Don’t you prefer it?”

Taking the bottle, Sonya said, “You’re very perceptive.” She swirled the dusty bottle, wiped off the lip of it, and took a swig. The medical syrup left an after taste on Sonya’s tongue, bitter but satisfying. “I never told you I liked bitter drinks-- and it’s not a safe bet.”

It only earned Sonya a fraction of a smile. “Oh, I-- you seemed interested when I found it. That’s all.”

Sonya sighed, taking another drink of the tonic. “You should learn to take a compliment,” she said. “I don’t give them out generously.”

“Maybe so,” Celica said, much too reasonably.

After Celica cajoled the rest of the group to take some rations, even a disgruntled Mae; she was sure the shrine was close, and the rest of the group trusted her judgement. Even Saber followed, and unlike the ragtag of mages, he had the experience to judge the worst parts of people’s characters.

Sonya should’ve felt relief when they found the shrine; they could rest. But Mila’s statue stood over them imposingly, her shadow casting down on all of them. And while Mila’s shrines were so unlike Duma’s-- Duma’s shrines had none of the trickling fountains or elegant statues-- they unnerved Sonya in the same way. 

Long ago, Hestia had taken Sonya to a shrine. She’d tried to explain the history and importance of it in hushed tones, but Sonya hadn’t remembered any of the details, because she hadn’t paid attention. She only remembered the expression on Hestia’s face-- the unwavering dedication. 

And Duma didn’t do her much good in the end; she got the power of a witch, and lost everything else. 

Despite Sonya’s best attempts to keep her distance from the shrine, Celica had noticed her skirting to the edge. 

“You should drink at the fountains for strength-- Mila’s blessing will help,” Celica asserted. And while she seemed earnest enough in that, the dedication was much too recognizable.

Sonya tutted. Looking away from Celica, she turned her gaze to Mila’s statue in front of them. Her carved expression lacked detail, and her gaze focused past the both of them, not paying mortals any mind. 

“I’ll pass,” said Sonya. “I’m just not the pious type.”

* * *

The cold nipped at Sonya, and the wind swayed her cloak. She’d been out in the weather too long, looking for Celica, but she wasn’t going to stop looking any time soon. Not with the stunt Celica had just pulled.

Sonya hadn’t caught all of it-- but she knew Celica had tried to bargain with Jedah. And while that bargain left everyone else in the dark, Sonya recognized it. She recognized it too well; Jedah could promise the world, he could promise anything, and it’d end the same. A husk of a girl and power without paying the price himself.

Sonya could place another piece of unreturned trust in Celica and believe she wasn’t this naive, or this desperate.  But all paths Jedah created lead to the same conclusion, and Sonya wasn’t one to mince words. 

When Sonya found her, she was isolated at the edge of camp, tucked away in between the edge of camp and the forest. Close enough to keep an eye on things, far enough not to be disturbed.

“You don’t know what you’re heading into,” Sonya said. Celica startled at her words, turning to Sonya with fleeting shock. “You don’t know what he’s planning.”

“Sonya, I…” Celica started, then gave pause. She turned away, looking at the tower ahead of them, effectively shielding her expression. “I know enough.”

Sonya laughed, the sound harsh. “Oh, do you?” She asked, “I suppose you already know about witches.”

Celica quieted at that, her composure cracking. She looked down and away, not meeting Sonya’s eyes. 

“Jedah’s bargains are always for power,” she said. “At the cost of turning you into a…”

Hestia had made the same decision-- Marla, too, but Celica was so much like Hestia. Headstrong in her dedication, sure her decision was just and honorable.

“You’d be an empty vessel,” Sonya said. “There’s no way to heal witches. None that I’ve found. They’ll just follow whoever commands them, and cut down anyone else. That’s all that Jedah will get you.” Bitterness drenched her words, something Celica surely picked up on. “It isn’t worth your dragon--”

“I know,” Celica interrupted. “I know what-- I know _exactly_  what I’m getting into, I…” She trailed off, her politeness returning like a shield. “This is the best path. If we save Mila, we can end this war peacefully. Jedah’s not… ideal, but it’s what I have to do.”

Oh, she’d heard this excuse before-- Hestia, Marla, the both of them, so convinced that Jedah was telling the truth. That sacrificing themselves would help, that it wasn’t a trick for power. And she couldn’t pull them from their purpose then; she was losing the same ground here. 

“How do you think this will end for you?” Sonya asked; she didn’t expect a response. Celica, before waffling on the edge of her decision, had been pushed into it fully, now. And Sonya could recognize a losing argument, even if she was on the losing side. 

Celica sured herself up and said, “I… I assure you, whatever ending I bring, it’ll be for the best.” She didn’t answer the question, her answer skirting around her own end.

“For the best,” Sonya repeated, but Celica didn’t give her another word.

“I apologize for being sharp with you,” Celica continued, covering all the cracks in her composure.  “Now if you’ll excuse me, I… have some battle preparations to attend to.”

As Celica left down back into the camp, Sonya let out a long breath into the cold air. Celica was just a girl, yet Sonya couldn’t change her mind. She’d thought that she could’ve changed her sister’s mind, had she not been the youngest, but...

Brushing down her cloak, Sonya walked briskly back to her own tent; they had a long road to Duma Tower, and if she couldn’t stop their march, she might was well be prepared for it. 

* * *

Maybe this was an inevitability.

“How many of them are there?!” yelled Mae beside her; panic frayed her easily, and the next magic she cast missed its target by a longshot. 

Sonya aimed at Mae’s target, taking care of it. “Watch your shot,” she chided, but another Terror distracted Mae from Sonya’s response.

Of course Duma Tower lead to Jedah, and of course Jedah lead to Celica’s demise. Dragon-worship, tenacity, reckless selflessness. Sonya saw this coming, and yet she couldn’t stop it, not even in the moment; Jedah had sent the lot of them to the bottom of the tower, before Sonya could right her inaction.

All they could do now was fight; fight, or meet their own demise. 

A Terror jaunted past their front lines, and with a Sonya cast a burst of flames to end it in its tracks. There wasn’t an end to them, and each spell cast drained her more and more. 

She felt a familiar and terrible regret, simmering under everything, worse than the fight ahead. She’d been in tough fights, and gotten out of them. But she hadn’t-- she couldn’t seem to stop Jedah’s inevitable sacrifices, or fix the outcome at all. Celica would be sacrificed into a witch, and there was no hope for her then.

Her next casting missed; regret distracted her, and she ran herself ragged. Letting out a steady breath, she tried to focus back on her immediate actions, and not wallow in her own regrets. At least, not for the moment. 

The next strike hit its target, sending sparks flying across the dungeon halls. 

* * *

Zofia castle held itself upright, in glory and with injury. Sonya could trace the scars of battles fought on the castle grounds, despite its appearances of a won war. The soft hues of early morning concealed the castle well, the sunlight dusting everything in oranges and yellows.

Celica should be here, soon. Maybe it was unfair of Sonya, to ask her to meet so early in the morning, when Celica ought to have other duties as queen. But, no matter the timing, she was sure Celica would meet with her, regardless. 

Still, it was taking a while. Sonya had hoped to be out of the capitol by sunrise, not witness sunrise from the balcony of the castle. She couldn’t share in the atmosphere of relief and triumph at a war ended; she’d expected to feel some of that relief herself, but instead just earned herself regrets.

Celica was alive, but Sonya couldn’t stop Celica almost turning into a witch. Jedah was gone, but so were her sisters. Her journey’s destination brought her no relief, and it brought her back to the start. Revenge without anything solved; she hadn’t saved anyone from turning into a witch, and hadn’t brought any witches back.

“Sonya?” said a voice behind her. 

Looking over her shoulder, Sonya beckoned Celica over.

“Sorry I’m late,” Celica said. “I’d slept in. I… hadn’t had the chance, recently.”

Sonya didn’t bother with niceties. “I’ll cut to the chase,” she said. “I’m leaving today-- figured I should let you know.”

Celica turned to look at the sunrise, a small frown on her face. “I’m surprised,” Celica said. “I was hoping you’d join the guard, or help in diplomacy, at least temporarily.”

Sonya wondered if she really was surprised; she was always perceptive. “You were hoping on it, but you weren’t relying on it,” she said. “You’re not _that_ surprised.”

Pulling a hair behind her ear, Celica said, “No, I suppose I’m not.”

Sonya smiled; she didn’t expect her to admit it. “Good luck with the country,” Sonya said. “It’s in good hands.”

“Thank you,” said Celica, taking the compliment. “I wish you luck as well. With…” she paused her thought. “I wish you luck on your journey,” she said instead, leaving something unsaid. 

Sonya was glad for it. “Take care,” she said, turning to walk away. Her shoes clicked on the floors of the castle balcony, her path ahead clear as ever.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy Yuletide! I hope you enjoyed; I was really excited to write about Sonya, especially with her and Celica!


End file.
